Navigating Chaos and sitting with ambiguity: why you feel restless, why it’s time to seek what means the most
Cultivating presence when the path is unclear.
When life changes – whether by choice or by circumstance – we are often confronted with the bites of anguish. It can feel overwhelming, too much. This is often because significant change throws us headfirst into ambiguity: that unsettling, disorienting space where the old certainties have crumbled and the new paths aren't yet clear. Our minds, naturally seeking patterns and predictability, find this state of not-knowing profoundly challenging. It can feel like the ground beneath our feet has become unstable.
It can feel like we need to rationalise and be productive, either with work or studying, or maybe we feel too paralysed to even start the day. Endless scrolling that eats precious dompamine (especially relatable for neurodivergent individuals). If you recognise yourself in one of those two dichotomies, you are not alone.
This inherent discomfort with ambiguity often fuels a deep restlessness within us – a yearning for solid ground, for answers, for the gnawing unease of uncertainty to stop. This restlessness is the energetic signature of our discomfort with the unknown. It’s also a testament to how we often try to rationalise what feels irrational: our emotions. One side is maybe the expression of a more (seemingly) rational attempt to escape this restlessness and ambiguity: a rigid schedule, pushing forward for that promotion, working out strenuously, studying first thing in the morning just to keep at bay the discomfort– in one word, overfunctioning, in the aim to manage those nasty bites of anguish and try to wrestle back a sense of control amidst the chaos.
The other way, falling into those negative feelings, is perhaps a collapse under the weight of too much uncertainty, a free dive into the overwhelm where even basic self-care like preparing breakfast or taking supplements starts to be skipped, as the restlessness finds a different, more inward, expression or we seek to numb the disquiet.
One of my teachers during training told my class, "When we feel the lowest is the moment we most need to care for ourselves." I never forgot those words. She was an expert psychoanalyst, and while the wording felt easy to understand, the meaning and the context she spoke from never left my heart. I still think it’s true, and I add my own understanding. Because the bites of anguish, fuelled by this restlessness and the disquiet of ambiguity, can make our thinking less clear and leave us feeling exposed, raw, and vulnerable, I think it’s important to stay in contact with what is important and perhaps try to change perspective.
But what does it truly means to 'sit with ambiguity' rather than immediately rushing to escape its discomfort? It’s not about passively resigning ourselves to confusion or helplessness. Instead, it's an active, courageous inner posture. It looks like:
Acknowledging the uncertainty without demanding immediate answers or fixes.
Allowing the uncomfortable feelings – the anxiety of not knowing, the fear of the unknown, the desire for things to be settled – to be present without being consumed by them or needing to instantly act them out.
Cultivating a gentle curiosity towards our inner experience and the unfolding situation, rather than a harsh judgment or a desperate need for control.
Focusing on the present moment, on what is known and what can be done, however small, rather than getting lost in all the unknowns of the future.
This 'sitting with ambiguity' is less about finding solid ground and more about learning to tolerate the feeling of being adrift for a while, trusting that the restlessness will eventually guide us if we don't let it overwhelm us. It’s in this space of allowing, not forcing, that new insights, unexpected paths, and a deeper understanding of what truly means most can begin to emerge.
That workout can be a moment of profound contact with the body, an act of self-care, when it's intended like that. Waking up in the morning to study can be an act of self-care if it helps in getting things done that are important in our life, without it being a rigid escape. Focus on working can be an act of self-care if it isn’t a rigid sacrifice in the name of productivity, but allows us to follow a path while feeling what we need to feel and connecting with what truly matters. It’s a leaning into the process of unfolding, renouncing the idea of controlling what is uncontrollable.
What about seeking what matters most? I think we are taking action in the direction of both our values and… Pleasure. Values are the inner compass that gives every small action the dignity of being oriented towards a direction, and seeking pleasure is about feeling connected in the present moment. If you like dancing, go dance. If you want connection, reach out. Go out for a walk. In between one bite of anguish and the next, there can be life. There can be connections to the present moment while we wait for the path to unfold.
Navigating these deep waters of chaos and ambiguity can be challenging to do alone. If you're finding yourself needing support to explore what matters most and to sit with uncertainty more comfortably, please know that therapy can offer a dedicated space for this. You can learn more about my approach or reach out.
